I Never
by thatgirl0303
Summary: Flash forward a few years. The gang's celebrating a football win at what's shaping up to be the hottest party of the year. All seems well until a round of "I Never" goes somewhere Sammy never intended. And Marissa said, Let there be gossip.


It was a beautiful craftsman house in the most expensive part of town, and Sammy hated seeing it put in such danger, even for a party as unquestionably awesome as this one. Good music (she'd heard everything from Prince to Kanye to the Beatles), great booze, and all the right people. Plus Heather, but she was already too drunk to… oh, that had to hurt. Sammy cringed, watching the red-haired menace take her first spill of the night. Unfortunately, it was off the back porch.

"Ouch," came a male voice from behind Sammy, and she giggled. Giggling had always been very uncharacteristic for Sammy Keyes; that was, until she met Casey Acosta. Spinning around, the sixteen-year-old wrapped her arms around her boyfriend's neck, not at all surprised when the room continued spinning long after she'd stopped. After all, that had been her fourth shot of vodka—the time to stop consuming and start enjoying was approaching, and fast.

"Shouldn't you be taking care of her?" Sammy asked Casey, glancing over at Heather, who was now laughing wildly and attempting, with the "assistance" of three equally hammered football players, to climb back onto the patio. "She's your sister, dude, not mine."

"I'd really prefer you not remind me," he groaned, running a hand through his orange hair. "You're so much more interesting…"

Just as he'd been about to lean in and kiss her, a shout rang out through the crowded room.

"I NEVERRR!" came the battle cry of a very tipsy, very tall, very blonde Marissa McKenzie. "In the kitchen! Now!"

Sammy buried her head in her hands and then in Casey's shirt. "Please, please, please tell me that was not my best friend right there."

"Please," Casey chuckled, "Where would you be without Marissa?"

The brunette shrugged. "Maybe now's a good time to find out," she muttered, wobbling slightly as she made her way towards the back door, but a hand grabbed her wrist and dragged her (admittedly with very little resistance) back towards the kitchen's large tile island.

"Ohhh no, Samantha Keyes," admonished Marissa from across the table. "Thanks, Case!"

Casey grinned at the blonde, all the while maintaining a tight hold on his girlfriend's wrists, lest she attempt to escape a second time. "God, you look good," he murmured, looking at her straight on. "I mean, you always look good, but jeez Sammy…"

Glancing over at her reflection in the chrome refrigerator, Sammy gave herself a once over. At 16, she hadn't "filled out" as much as, say, Marissa or Dot, but gone were the days of 32A training bras and a wardrobe consisting solely of cut-offs, converse, and old softball uniforms. With her vaguely wavy, shoulder-length chestnut hair, old green raglan shirt, denim miniskirt, and black Converse (alas, only low-tops), Sammy had to admit that Casey was right. She looked good. She looked damn good.

"Whatever, Acosta. You have to say that," she replied dismissively, giving him a quick peck on the lips before grinning tipsily and turning towards the group. She leaned boldly against the counter and challenged, "Alright, Miss McKenzie, I've never pitched a no-hitter."

Marissa smiled and took a sip of beer, thinking back to essentially the entire 2008 softball season. James Conover, a varsity baseball player a few seats down, also took a sip. Everyone else just looked confused.

"I never had sex!" came the cliché 'I never' from a sophomore – Sammy was pretty sure her name was Kelsey – by the stove. More than half the crowd groaned, swigging their drinks and rolling their eyes.

Sammy shot Casey a look—they'd been together since middle school, and they both knew that everyone assumed they'd already "done it." Honestly, in the past three years neither of them had ever been brave enough to even broach the topic for more than a few seconds, despite how pleasant and heated as their makeout sessions usually got. Blushing furiously, Sammy realized that all 30 sets of eyes were on her and Casey, silent and expectant.

"Come on, guys, drink up!" chided James, but he was quickly silenced by Marissa's pointy elbow in his ribs. "Ow! McKenzie, that… oh… wait…"

"You mean…"

"No way, dude!"

"You guys haven't…?"

"Seriously?"

Sammy felt her cheeks reddening even further, but her embarrassment turned quickly to anger when she realized that Casey was just standing there, laughing and shaking his head at everyone's incredulity.

"How are you so calm about this?" she whispered harshly, though in her drunken state, it had probably come out much louder than intended.

Casey looked a little surprised, but the look on his face changed to one of pity, and he extended a hand towards Sammy, mouthing "Sorry," but she just shook her head, turned, and walked determinedly out of the room, praying not to lose her balance or run into something on her way out. She could hear the "ohhhhhhh"s and "heyyyyyy"s and "dude, you've been whiiiiiiipped"s emanating from the kitchen as she made her way towards the front door and the fresh air outside it, stepping carefully over a number of passed out partiers and self-consciously avoiding eye contact with the spattering of "involved" couples in various corners.

Damnit, this was really killing her buzz.


End file.
